


Dizzee is Dizzy

by sourcheeks



Category: The Get Down (TV)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 12:37:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8162305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sourcheeks/pseuds/sourcheeks
Summary: I'm sorry about the bad pun but you really should just blame dadvenomDizzee has a panic attack and Thor has to help him through it





	

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.”

Dizzee hated when he got like this. Sometimes, it happened when he and his father fought, and almost always it happened on the days when he woke up feeling _wrong_. The drugs helped. So did painting, and the music. Sometimes, if he felt one coming, he’d talk to Ra or Zeke or his mama, whoever he found first before he got so bad he was incoherent.

Thor was freaking out, which didn’t make him feel any better. Dizzee couldn’t even talk, could barely see Thor through the tears he couldn’t seem to bring himself to wipe away.

“Um, uh, can you hear me?” Blurry figure, pale skin, pale hair, dark shirt. Thor.

Dizzee managed a jerky nod, a choked sound. Calloused thumbs wiped his cheeks, bringing Thor into sharp focus.

“What’s wrong?”

“I-” Dizzee shook his head, taking a shuddering breath. “ _No_ ,” he choked out finally. That was how it felt, he’d decided a long time ago. He felt shut out, unwanted, unneeded. A negative number. No.

“No. Okay. No is okay.” No was _not_ okay, but Dizzee didn’t correct him, letting Thor wrap him in his arms and rub his back. “You’ll be okay, Rumi.”

“Dizzee.” He let his fingers curl into Thor’s shirt, trying to focus on the loose thread on his shoulder. But Thor didn’t realize what he was trying to say, he guessed, must have thought Dizzee _felt_ dizzy because all he did was move a hand to rub Diz’s temple. Dizzee felt, for just a moment, safe.

Then he threw up.

“Holy shit. Do you have the flu or something?” Thor just takes off the hoodie Dizzee had soaked in vomit, didn’t even seem upset, too busy being concerned. He presses a hand to Dizzee’s temple, feels no fever there. “You’re scaring me, Rumi.”

That made Dizzee cry again. His dysfunction was hurting everyone, destroying the unity he worked so hard to create. Thor made some kind of pathetic, strangled noise of worry, not knowing his to help. Dizzee had heard it before. It was the same noise his siblings made when he broke down in front of them. The same noise his father had made when he saw Dizzee in the lock-up. “I’m sorry,” he sobbed, burying his face in Thor’s bare chest. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Thor.” He took in a shaky, hiccupping breath. There were hands in his hair, massaging his scalp through his fro.

“Come on. Deep breaths, Rumi.”

Dizzee tried to comply, but he was gone. A million miles away, up in the sky. He really was Rumi right now. He tried to talk, but all that came out was a small squeal. At least he wasn’t sobbing anymore, though the tears still ran free down his face.

Thor was still hugging him, holding him. Dizzee forced himself to yank out of the grip. He didn’t… he shouldn’t be comforting Dizzee. Dizzee was a mess. He didn’t deserve to be comforted. He grabbed his bag and he bolted, stopping when he grabbed the doorknob and heard Thor shout.

“Rumi, wait!”

Dizzee waited. He stared down at his hand on the doorknob, listened to bare feet on wood. He about jumped out of his skin when Thor rested a hand on his shoulder. He threw open the door and ran, throwing a quick parting over his shoulder.

“I can’t come back.”


End file.
